Jan. 9: Jimmy Page (1944), Joan Baez (1941), David Johansen (1950)
Made lead balloon fly
All the way up to heaven
Rock on, Jimmy Page
For justice and peace
Joan Baez always sings out
With amazing grace
David Johansen
A Doll, a chameleon
Still funky but chic
Elvis Presley, Jan. 8, 1935 — Aug. 16, 1977
Happy birthday, King
Wish you were still drawing breath,
Exhaling magic
Why do we recall
The end, not the beginning
When something’s over?
Yes, I do it, too
Remember deaths of Elvis,
JFK, Dad, Mom
The life of a dream
— Hero, loved one, pet, romance —
Always ends too soon
But making dreams real
Is still our hope, our work, with
Their inspiration
Their memories, lessons,
Melodies, words inform life’s
Never-ending song
Happy birthday, King
Seems the magic can live on
In each one of us
Noel Redding, bass man
With Hendrix, born this date, but
How’d he get that name?
Born Dec. 13: Ross Macdonald (1915), Dick Van Dyke (1925), Lester Bangs (1948), Tom Verlaine (1949), Taylor Swift (1989)
Also Dec. 13: Al Gore concedes (2000); Saddam Hussein captured (2003)
Feeling weird today?
This 13 is an odd one
Cosmic hits, misses
Al Gore conceded
Half-million vote edge no help
Florida, High Court
Al Gore conceded
Leaving us in the Bushes
We know how that went
Inconvenient truths:
Saddam caught 3 years later
— At terrible cost
Saddam’s opposite
Born this date, in Missouri
Nice guy Dick Van Dyke
In “Bye Bye Birdie”
He found Broadway success, then
His great TV role
“The Dick Van Dyke Show”
This empire’s only misstep?
Rob’s ottoman trip
Great ensemble cast:
Rob, Laura, Buddy, Sally,
Little Richie, Mel
Dick’s chimney sweep, Bert,
Worked wondrous sidewalk magic
For Mary Poppins
Super-cali-frag-
Forget it! That word won’t fit
Any haiku line
Dick Van Dyke lives on
DVD on DVD
Now, and when he’s gone
Live? Or Taylor Swift?
I don’t care, really, because
She writes fine young songs
Singing’s OK, too
She does what she can, KAN-ye
So cut her some slack
Probably not what
Lester Bangs would do for her
Were he still around
Bracing honesty
Marked Lester’s reviews, got him
Fired at least one time
But you always knew
Just where he stood — he’d never
Suck up to stardom
So sad he OD’d
Darvon, Nyquil, Valium
What a weird lights-out
Saved my faves for last:
Masters of noir and guitar,
Mystery and music
Ross Macdonald wrote
Great American novels
Disguised as mysteries
Macdonald’s stories
Plumbed family dissolution,
Alienation
Main man Lew Archer
Always got to painful truth
Cracked the case, his heart
LA’s facade, too,
Stripped away, reality
Beneath the glitter
Ross Macdonald tales
Equal Chandler, Hammett
As good as it gets
As good as it gets
Tom Verlaine on the guitar
Mystery, too, no star
Band Television
Rocked the CBGB scene
In the punk heyday
“Marquee Moon,” “Blow-Up”
“See No Evil,” “Friction,” “Days”
Fluid, powerful
His solo career
Even more nuanced, speed freaks
Won’t find much to like
But exploration
Of effects, textures and tones
Gets me — and it rocks
Unusual voice,
Words playful, elliptical
Complete the package
Happy birthday, Tom
You fit in nicely on this
Different kind of day
“One of a Kind”
Tom Waits, born Dec. 7, 1949
Gargling razor blades
This a.m. reminded me —
Happy birthday, Tom!
“This year’s models”
Congrats to them all
Especially Laura, the muse
Next? Warren Zevon!
World AIDS Day: The Faith
To keep pushing until we
Overcome this scourge
World AIDS Day: The Hope
To see awareness recharged
Efforts redoubled
World AIDS Day: The Love
To end discrimination
Through our compassion
More information is here.
Overnight deep freeze
Makes rooftops look like my head
All covered in white
Overnight deep freeze
That faint scraping sound? Neighbors
Clearing their windshields
Sorry, but if we
Want de frost we’ll open de
Refrigerator
Hey, Mother Nature!
We love frosting, but save it
For cupcakes, cornflakes
———————————
Silver branches shake
And shiver, their crimson coat
Fallen to the ground
Huge winter storms have already blasted Alaska, Colorado and big swaths of the Northeast. (Ever notice that if you’re in a “swath” nothing good is going to happen around you?) I just hope we aren’t in for a repeat of last winter — though the big storms and deep freezes were easy subjects, right when I was starting to write regularly. Here are the past winter’s weather verses, with dates.
Jan. 21
Don’t drink much these days
But I’m afraid I’ll get plowed
Before my street does
Big storm was too much
For Kansas City road crews
If you get my drift
Feb. 2
The snow crews were ready for our second big blast. But man, was it cold.
My God they’re heroes
The folks behind the big plows
Beat the blizzard back
Buddha made me do these:
We truly aspire
To eliminate desire
But I need some heat!
We say namaste
On this frigid, frozen day
To warm our true hearts
We say namaste
To recognize the divine:
A breve latte
Feb. 3
Bitter cold made a few things unthinkable.
Calendar says it’s
Lunar New Year; guess I’ll
Moon someone today
Think it’s a dog’s life?
Obviously you haven’t
Peed outside lately
Would a nice muffler
Get these weather guys to just
Shut up already!?
Wife threw me over
For new-fangled snowblower
Can’t say I blame her
Please, my old shovel
Dig me out of my hovel
I lamely grovel
Feb. 4, Zero-tolerance haiku
You know it’s cold when
You curl up in your icebox
And you feel warmer
You know it’s cold when
Wild-eyed weatherman just laughs
Uncontrollably
You know it’s cold when
Birds skate across your birdbath
And they’re wearing skarves
You know it’s cold when
Waitress spills coffee on you
And you raise her tip
These ran on The Kansas City Star business page, for the area’s big corporate names.
H&R Block
You know it’s cold when
Tax man can’t stand the zeroes
On Form 1040
Hallmark
You know it’s cold when
Even greeting card writers
Can’t find a good word
Sprint
You know it’s cold when
You can hear a pin drop then
Hear the pin shatter
Garmin
You know it’s cold when
Even your GPS thinks
You’re at the North Pole
YRC Worldwide
You know it’s cold when
Every big rig’s cargo is
Refrigerated
Cerner
You know it’s cold when
Your medical software reads
Zeros but no 1’s
American Century
You know it’s cold when
Your clients’ liquid assets
Are frozen solid
And for our friends in broadcast media:
You know it’s cold when
Fox, NPR snuggle up
To try to get warm
Feb. 10
Forecast: High 40
Whoever thought that would be
Music to our ears?
Feb. 25
Buryin’ my car
Deep-six(inch)in’ my driveway
Winter, it’s baa-aack
Shovel that driveway
So I can get downtown and
Shovel my workload
Damn that traffic jam
You’d think these yahoos never
Saw snow in their lives
Bald guy with bald tires
Slides clean off the highway — ditched
Like a bad toupee
Beautiful snow, that’s
BS for short — and for long
Way too long, I say
Snowblower weather
This meets the definition
Yeah, it blows all right
Perfect second car?
A tow truck! Perfect third car?
A big old snowplow
March 14
Fat, wet, white, flaky
— The snow, not me, smart aleck —
A mid-March flurry
Hip old shoveler
Clears drive gingerly, knows he
Must avoid spring break
We’ve had a glorious fall in and around Kansas City, and I think we deserved it after blizzards and a long heat wave. Here are some verses from summer, concluding with some celebrating a couple of breaks in the heat.
July 14
Haiku enough for you?
It’s so hot out there
Lady Gaga is wearing
Just one big ice cube
It’s so bad, servers
At Cold Stone Creamery say,
“Careful, this plate’s hot”
(And don’t sweat this one if you aren’t a Harry Potter fan)
It’s so hot I can
Disapparate and I’m not
Even a wizard
Wilson Pickett sings
The weather: “99 and
“A Half (Just Won’t Do)”
The Stones try to sing
“She’s So Cold” but it comes out
As “Gimme Swelter”
Tried to say “No sweat”
But a hot wind snatched the words,
Suffocated them
Expiration date
On everything (but this heat)
Just moved up a month
Perspiration date
On everything alive has
Been set to “right now”
It’s even torrid
On the Web; better send this
Before Hotmail melts
July 21
98°
With shade, breeze, feels like only
96°
It’s so bad outside
You keep having hot flashes
And you’re a young guy
It’s so hot outside
I’m taking panting lessons
From my neighbor’s dog
July 22
Hot off the haiku press
On baked paths, paths shift
Joggers, walkers no longer
Avoid the sprinklers
Tree, grass, bush, flower
Nature turns alcoholic
Dying for a drink
Trimmed terrier trots
Paucity of paws’ pauses
Happy haircut hound
Radiant runner
Not breathless but breathtaking
Skin shines, sweat glistens
July 28
“Heat’s getting to him” haiku
It’s so hot outside
We’re grilling all of our meals
And don’t need charcoal
It’s so hot outside
All our tomatoes have been
Classified “sun dried”
It’s so hot outside
Even all the dry ice is
Sweating profusely
Baked-brain guy wagging
Middle finger at the sun
Shouts, “Here’s my heat wave”
Done-in centipede,
On back, its final salute:
100 digits
100°
X most of July =
One well-baked product
So hot I wonder:
My lawn or the power grid,
Which browns out first?
Aug. 2
Afternoon drive haiku. High temp, 107:
Good God these numbers
Should be for FM stations
Not temperatures
So hot I should be
Hallucinating, but dang
The bank temp sign’s real
Seasonal menu
It’s not just the potatoes
Everything’s twice baked
Seasonal menu
Pat’s Burger Bar now serving
Only Patty Melts
Seasonal menu
Every kind of candy’s been
Replaced by Red Hots
Seasonal menu
Sizzling fajitas prepared
For sizzling eaters
Aug. 5
“Big drip, little verses” haiku
Grey slab speeds across
The morning sky, makes the sun
Take a too-rare break
Who ordered the rain
For this august occasion?
Must send a thank you
Oh, I’ve lost the sense
To come in out of the rain
H2(Greg)O-O!
No one else is out
Except in their cars. What’s wrong
With all these people?
Despite umbrella
My back is soaked and I know
Rest of me can’t wait
Ditch the umbrella
Mother Nature give me all
Your liquid assets
Gloriously soaked
Even shoes and socks feel good
Grant my wish to squish
Late bloomers, awake
It’s our season to become
Wildflowers in May
Stop under a tree
To scribble notes; can’t let these
Impressions wash out
Near home, the lightning
Finally shows, splits the sky
Time to bolt inside
Aug. 11
“Made to order” haiku:
August, feels like spring
This morning of all mornings
Day made to order
A shady sidewalk
Stretched out for a mile, waiting
For walkers to come
Fresh air, a clean slate
Something makes it all feel new
No expectations
Delicious menu
Ripe with possibilities
What sounds good to you?
These came to me around 5 a.m., a day I woke up before everyone else and just imagined some scenes from the previous few hours.
From Feb. 27, 2011
The wee small hours / Street sweeper washes away / What yesterday left
The wee small hours / Streetlamps dim as if to ask / Why are we still on?
The wee small hours / When rodents and roaches do / Some of their best work
The wee small hours / Cigarette turns to ashes / Dying like the night
The wee small hours / Bourbon melts ice cubes the way / She melted his heart
The wee small hours / Action’s harder to find than / A ghetto cabbie
The wee small hours / Train whistle marks 1 a.m. / All is on schedule
The wee small hours / Siren says it’s 2 a.m. / And all is not well
The wee small hours / An ER doc wearily / Stitches up some kid
The wee small hours / Scratchy Sinatra platter / Still spins its magic
The wee small hours / Couples drunk on love and wine / Can’t tell which is which
The wee small hours / Her fingers linger on him / Take their own sweet time
The wee small hours / Cramming guy’s midnight oil / Is three hours gone
The wee small hours / Exhausted student looks up / What “nocturnal” means
The wee small hours / Scribbler sketches the darkness / With some wee small words
The wee small hours / Agnostic insomniac / Can’t believe in sleep
The wee small hours / The owner then the dough rise / At the doughnut shop
The wee small hours / Life is primitive B.C. / That’s Before Coffee
The wee small hours / Jazzercizers rise early / Slap on the Spandex
The wee small hours / Do their disappearing act / With coffee, the dawn
Greg's Hack-u 